


The World Is Full of Magic Things

by flying_crepes



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Darkest Part of the Forest - Holly Black, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Blood and Violence, Bullying, Dead!Livvy Blackthorn, Depression, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Kit is hella awesome, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, No Beta, POV Alternating, Stressed Julian, We Die Like Men, minor fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flying_crepes/pseuds/flying_crepes
Summary: A TDA and The Darkest Part of the Forest mash-up.Mark is Ben, and Hazel is split between Emma and Kit. Kieran is still Kieran, and Julian is hella stressed.-Tags May Change
Relationships: Julian Blackthorn/Emma Carstairs, Mark Blackthorn/Kieran, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tiberius Blackthorn/Kit Rook
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The World Is Full of Magic Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all!
> 
> So, I saw this idea and absolutely could NOT resist. I’ve decided to make this a long term project.
> 
> I can’t give y’all consistent updates, a schedule of any kind, or a promise to actually finish this, but I can promise to try my best.
> 
> Also, shoutout to LadyoftheLillies for this great idea!!
> 
> A link to the work [here](%E2%80%9C).
> 
> Have a great day!
> 
> -flying_crepes
> 
> //At the beginning of each chapter, I will post a recap and possible triggers, plus any updates//
> 
> Possible Triggers:
> 
> -Language  
> -Violence  
> -Blood  
> -Past character death  
> -Grief
> 
> *All of these are either mild or moderate*

It was raining in Faerieland. 

The Alderking curled his long, spindly fingers around the arm of the throne. _Good._ His nails sank into familiar grooves. Rain was always a good sign. It meant his influence over his kingdom was strong. He’d fought to keep it that way; too many disloyal subjects and rival gentry had been slaughtered at his hand. 

Still, he would do it again if he had to. 

He would do it a thousand times. 

The Oak King had fallen first; his domain had been so easy to overthrow. A quick slip of a sword, in and out, and the kindly old man had collapsed.

The temperature had dropped, like the seasons were in mourning. The Alderking had cried out, then. How could they weep for a trembling, cowardly fool such as him? 

The Holly King had put up quite the fight. Midwinter was upon them, giving the ice giants and snow fae strength. He had gotten them, in the end. There was no sight as glorious as the Holly King’s head, rolling bloody across the dais. 

His army had crumbled before the raw strength of the battalion. Blizzards and hail be damned, the right to rule was his and his alone. 

Fate had a way of righting the wrongs. And he was sure that destiny had smiled down on him. 

As he gazed out across the throne room, he never felt more right. Tipping his head back, rainwater washed over him, droplets cutting paths down his velvet cloak. The water cleansed him, made him feel anew.

His knights would bring the traitors to him. He would bring them to their knees, so they could atone for their crimes. Then, he would kill them. 

He planned to usher in a new dawn. To finally destroy the Oak King’s son would ensure his eternal reign. And no one was going to stand in his way. 

* * *

It was raining at the funeral. 

The whole scene was so incredibly cliché, it made Julian want to scream. A violent sob tore its way up his throat. He muffled it with his hand, forcing the sound back down. Beside him, Emma’s shoulders shook as she silently cried.  
The lowering coffin rattled. It was bound in iron chains to keep fae out; they might steal the body and use it in ritual-burnings. 

Julian knew it didn’t matter. The wretched creatures had won. 

When Livvy was an infant, mere hours after she was born, an unseelie fae climbed through her bedroom window with Ty. Seven-year-old Julian had wandered in just as the fae went to switch the babies. Startled, they left both children in Livvy’s cradle. 

From then on, Livvy and Ty were raised side-by-side, like twins. Julian, partially responsible for their situation, thought of them the same way. Though Ty might have been a changeling, he was a Blackthorn through and through. 

It didn’t matter now. Because Livvy was dead. 

After their parents disappeared, they were sent to visit their estranged grandmother in Ireland while the investigation continued. It had been wonderful at first. Niamh helped him with Tavvy, taking a huge weight off his shoulders. She’d also taught him how to cook. A small, guilty part of him didn’t want his neglectful parents to come back.

One day, they decided to picnic on the moor. It bordered the ocean with sheer cliffs and sharp drops. The sea pounded mercilessly, and had made him gasp at the intensity. A path wound down to a stretch of sand near the rocks. Livvy had pleaded with him—already like a parent figure—to let her follow it. He’d agreed, but only if she took Mark, only thirteen, with her. 

If he’d not allowed it, she would still be alive. 

Ten minutes later, he’d heard Mark’s desperate cry echo off the empty hills. _Mal-de-Mars_ , Mark had screamed. They’d snatched Livvy’s ankles, dragging the thrashing girl to a watery grave.  
No one had brought any iron. They’d thought they were safe, far away from Fairfold. 

They were wrong.

Later that day, Niamh had gotten a call from the police in Fairfold. They had found Eleanor Blackthorn’s body, covered in fae script, and drained of life, half-submerged in a pond. Andrew‘s turned up a few hours later.

Julian’s world shattered twice that fateful day. He wasn’t sure he could survive a third. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -flying_crepes


End file.
